


A Happy Accident

by Aupple (GiveUpResistance)



Series: Swan Queen Week Winter 2015 [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Meet-Cute, Swan Queen Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiveUpResistance/pseuds/Aupple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry Mills sprains his ankle during Emma's first ever solo soccer class. Hopefully his (incredibly gorgeous) mom doesn't blame her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Happy Accident

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this this morning, so hopefully it's not too crap. I hope this is meet-cute enough. I think it is.

Emma blew her whistle and the swarm of eight to ten year olds ran forward, the soccer ball being intercepted within a couple of passes.

To be honest, the kids weren't that great, even without the offside rule, but most of them had maniacal grins, so she supposed that she wasn't doing too badly for her first supervisory session.

And having that thought cross her mind, of course, meant that it was at that moment that a kid fell over.

She blew the whistle again and jogged over to the brown haired boy, Henry Mills, while the rest of the children gradually came to a halt.

Henry was sitting up, but as she reached his side he attempted to stand up, only to wince as he put weight on his right foot and sit down again.

"Hey, kiddo," Emma said. "Your foot sore?"

He looked up at her and nodded. "My ankle hurts."

Emma crouched down beside him and examined the joint, taking care to only touch it lightly. It was probably a sprain, but it could still be bad, so it would be best to get Henry to sit out and call his parents.

"Alright," she called out, catching the attention of the other kids. "Who's the most responsible?" At least half of the children shot their hands up in the air, and Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay, Paige, Ava and Roland, could you go get out some more soccer balls? The rest of you, get into groups of four or five, and practise passing."

She turned back to Henry as they did as she said. "Think you'd be up to a piggy-back ride?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "It's my foot that's hurt, not my arms."

"That's a very good point." It was fairly easy to get him sitting safely on her back and carry him to the end of the room, far enough away from the soccer area that they wouldn't get hit by any stray balls.

“Okay, do you have a phone? We need to call your parents, and let them know what’s happened.”

“It’s just my mom.” Henry made a face. “Do we have to tell her? She’ll get all worried, and then whenever I play soccer she’ll want to be watching to make sure that I don’t get hurt again, and that’s so _embarrassing_.”

Emma resisted the urge to laugh. “That just means that she’s worried about you. And while I think that it’s only a sprain, you’ll need to get it checked by a doctor to make sure that nothing’s broken, so she definitely needs to know. Do you have a phone, or do I need to go to the office and find her number.”

Henry sighed and pointed to a bag sitting a few seats away. “It’s in there.”

Emma retrieved the bag and sat down beside him to keep an eye over the rest of the kids while he called his mother.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine, I just sprained my ankle a little-” she heard Henry wince. “It’s fine, but Emma made me call you-” he stopped talking again and when Emma looked over she saw that he was listening with a slightly weary expression.

There was a bang and Emma looked over to see that one of the groups had started trying to throw the soccer ball through the basketball hoop instead of practising. “Hey, that’s not the point of _soccer class_ , guys!”

She leapt up from her seat and jogged back to the groups. “Okay, I get that you’re bored, but passing accurately is a super important skill. If you want, next week I could set up some more interesting exercises-”

A collective groan had Emma throwing her hands up in the air in mock exasperation. “Ah, fine. Another game it is.”

Emma got the game going before heading back to Henry, who was no longer talking one the phone. “How does it feel?”

He grimaced. “Still sore.” Looking down, she noticed that he’d taken of his shoe. “Do you think I should put it up on the chair? I saw them do it on tv.”

She mentally berated herself for not thinking of it herself. “Yeah, that’s good idea.” She helped him carefully lift his leg to rest on the seats beside him. “I’ll get some ice, too, as soon as I can find someone to look after the rest of you terrors.”

Henry laughed.

Thankfully, as she made her way towards the office, she spotted Ruby, who she managed to convince to keep an eye on the kids, while she got the ice.

By the time she got back, Henry’s ankle was noticeably swelled, and he smiled gratefully when she placed the ice pack to the joint.

“So, do you enjoy soccer? Well, when you don’t injure yourself, anyway.”

“Yeah, it’s fun. David’s a good coach - and so are you, I think, but we haven’t had you before so I don’t really know.”

“Plus, you sprained your ankle on my first go coaching you guys, so you’ll probably associate bad things with me.”

“No, I totally won’t, I promise. Even if you did make me call Mom. She should be here soon, she said she’d pick me up right away.” He cast a glance toward the office.

“I’m sure she’ll be here as soon as she can without breaking any laws.” Henry smiled, and so Emma smiled back. “Why don’t you tell me your favourite thing about soccer?”

The kid launched into a speech about how awesome the sport was and how much he wanted to be able to bounce the ball on his knees, but stopped halfway through listing his favourite teams. “Mom!”

Emma looked around to see a woman in a fashionable blazer and skirt combo walking quickly towards them. A very, _very_ gorgeous woman.

“Woah,” she couldn’t help but say under her breath.

“What?” Henry asked.

“Uh, just, your mom is really pretty.”

“Henry, darling, are you alright?” Ms Mills said, rushing to her son’s side without sparing a glance for Emma. “How much does it hurt?”

“Mo- _om_ ,” Henry complained. “It’s not that bad. And Emma put ice on it and everything.” He gestured to her and Ms Mills looked at her for the first time.

She was even better looking up close.

“Who are you?”

“Emma Swan,” she said, holding out a hand for the other woman to shake. “I’m filling in for David today, seeing as he’s sick.”

“Regina Mills.” She had a firm grip and soft hands. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

“No problem. I mean, it’s my job, so…”

Regina nodded and turned back to Henry. “Well, we’re going to get you to the doctor to make sure that it is just a sprain, and then you’re going to be keeping off that foot, young man.” She picked up Henry’s bag, and then bit her lip, looking at Emma. “Ms Swan, do you have a wheelchair in the facility? I would prefer if Henry didn’t have to walk-”

“Mom!”

Emma waved a hand. “We do, but it might be easier if I just gave him a piggy-back ride again.”

Regina looked apprehensive, but Henry said, “Please, Mom?” and with a soft smile she relented.

It was easier for Henry to climb onto her back the second time, as he was sitting on a chair rather than the ground, and he waved happily to his friends still playing as Emma followed Regina Mills from the building.

Emma deposited her admittedly heavy burden into the back seat of a sleek black car.

“If your ankle isn’t quite healed in time for next week, Henry, you’re welcome to come along and help David referee, if you’d like.” She smiled at the thought of having the eight year old helping David. “We might even be able to convince him to let you blow the whistle.”

Henry’s face lit up at the thought, and he strapped himself in happily.

“I hope you realise what terror David is in store for,” Regina said wryly, closing Henry’s door.

Emma shrugged. “He owes me for today. And it’ll be nice for him to have something to look forward to, if he can’t play.”

“Thank you,” Regina said, looking fondly at her son. “Well, I’d better get going.”

She opened the drivers door, and was about to get in, when Emma said, “Wait!” Digging around in her pockets, she finally found a crumpled business card for the centre and a pen, scribbling her mobile number on the back before handing it to Regina. “If you could let me know how he does, that’s be good, I’d hate for him to have broken something during my first coaching session.” She took a deep breath. “Or, y’know. Just call. If you want.”

Regina Mills looked down at the number and back at her with raised eyebrows, before smiling slowly. “Alright. I think I will.” She slid behind the wheel and then paused, hand on the door. She looked up, with a playful expression in her eyes. “Emma.”

Emma watched the car drive away, heart fluttering like she was a teenager.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't end things I'm sorry.


End file.
